


Untitled

by strixus



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Angst, BDSM, Bondage, Cliche, Gunplay, M/M, Rape Recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-31
Updated: 2009-12-31
Packaged: 2017-10-05 13:04:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 12
Words: 22,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/42025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strixus/pseuds/strixus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Duo Maxwell must confront the demon of his past, Heero Yui, when situations throw them back together after three years apart. Can Heero prove that he's whole and sane again?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've always been fond of this work, but I've never finished it. Something simply didn't feel right. This is probably the most developed of my Gundam Wing fics, but also has some horrific cliches in it. I was young.

Airports, Duo decided, are as close to hell as a living person can get. Surrounded by throngs of equally unhappy people, his back still cramped from the tiny coach seat he had been crammed in for the last twelve hours on the flight from Phoenix, Arizona spaceport, Duo trudged away from a particularly harrowing run through Japanese customs. The Tokyo customs agents were always uptight, but who knew that his dress hair beret looked like a throwing star on x-ray. With a sigh, Duo made his way to the lobby area of the airport where he had been told a driver would be waiting for him.

Why he had agreed to come to this conference was beyond him at the moment. When he had agreed it had seemed like such a good idea: a week in one of the finest hotels in Tokyo, giving two speeches, and being an advisor for a panel on stealth technology, and getting to see all of the other Gundam pilots again, all for free. What he had forgotten was that while the L1 to Phoenix shuttle was moderately luxurious, the flight from America to Tokyo was hell. Added to that the fact that it had been nearly three years since he had been under more than .8 gee, Duo was seriously starting to regret this.

Spotting the portly driver holding a sign with his last name misspelled ("Maxvell," he wondered where that had come from) Duo hauled his one large bag and backpack across the open area towards the driver. The driver, a balding, portly fellow in a badly fitting uniform, bowed to him sharply, something Duo still had trouble getting use to, and offered to take his rolling bag. Gratefully, Duo handed it over, and followed the small, quick steps of the man out to the loading area, where a taxi like car was waiting. The portly driver demonstrated that most of his bulk was muscle by single handedly hoisting the heavy roller bag into the trunk of the car, and slammed the trunk so hard the small car shook. Moving at a surprising pace, the driver quickly circled around the car and opened the rear door for Duo, who gratefully crawled in dragging his backpack behind him, and closed it behind him, then all but threw himself behind the wheel of the car.

With a jerk of a bad clutch, the car pulled out into the lane of traffic outbound from the airport, and Duo sank into the rather plush back seat of the car, wishing for nothing more in the world to be at home, curled up in front of his favorite sitcom on the wall screen.   
* * *  
The ride to the hotel, while it did little to improve his mood, gave Duo a chance to rest in a moderately comfortable seat and to arrange the contents of his backpack once more. It was a nervous habit born of a dislike of being in any vehicle that wasn't under his own control, and a need to be prepared for any situation left over from the wars combined with the normal paranoia of a colonist. Each item had its own place, and Duo checked through it more to calm his nerves than to make sure that his books, notebooks, laptop, walkman, change of clothes, and digital photo album were all where they belonged. The one alien item in the back was a travel book, purchased in the L1 space port on a whim, detailing all the tourist traps, overpriced restaurants, and sites of absolutely no interest that filled all of Japan. It had been of little use except as a break from the other books he was reading on the flights, but it had provided him some information about the hotel where the conference was being held. It was a grand thing by the standards of the day, a pillar of glass with a design that reminded Duo of the cathedral buttresses he had seen in Europe once, but modernized and extruded as though a glassblower had made them. For all its seeming fragility though, it had survived the last two major earthquakes unscathed, the guidebook said, while the surrounding buildings had been badly damaged.

Any further reading on the hotel was interrupted, however, by their arrival. The portly driver leapt out from the car, again with surprising speed, to open his door and then to remove his large rolling bag from the trunk and then delivered it quickly onto the waiting cart of a bellhop. Duo sighed, and crawled a bit shakily from the womb of the car out into the sunlight, handing a rather large tip to the driver, who attempted to refuse it, more out of wanting to be rid of him than gratitude for service, and followed the young bellhop inside.

Passing from the bright sunlight outside to the alien world that seemed to exist within all Japanese hotels, Duo found himself suddenly assaulted with the noise of people talking. The lobby was filled with people, most wearing suits of various shades of black and navy, all either holding luggage or a drink from the bar, or both. Duo, dressed in his very battered bomber jacket and black turtleneck over a pair of jeans, felt very out of place. The bellhop, seeing the crowd of people, simply asked Duo for his name (in moderately broken English, Duo noted) and taped a small note onto the cart with his luggage with it printed on it, and took it back to the bell desk. Shouldering his backpack to re-center its weight, Duo started to make his way to the front desk, but was stopped by a young woman in a black skit suit and white blouse.

"Are you Maxwell-san?" She asked hesitantly in English.

"Yes. Who are you?" Duo regarded the young, Japanese woman with a careful eye, seriously hoped this wasn't someone who hated his guts or, worse, some adoring fan.

"That is good. I am Takato Hoshiko, director of guest relations for this conference. Your room has already been prepared for you, and we will tell the bell service to bring it up for you. It is wonderful having such distinguished guests with us for this conference, and I know that your expertise and experience will benefit all of our attendees. However," She paused, and glanced around sheepishly, "there have been some problems with the guest rooms."

"Problems?" Duo could feel the dread creeping into his bones.

"Yes, well, it seems that the hotel recently renovated the rooms that we had reserved for you and the other four Gundam pilots, without telling us that they changed the layout of the rooms. We, most embarrassingly, did not check ahead enough in advance to discover what had happened and correct it." She paused to bow in apology. "It seems they have changed the only triple bedroom suite in the hotel, quite a lovely room set up, complete with two level lounge, from a trio of double rooms into a set of two queen bed and one pair of single bed rooms."

She paused, and Duo interrupted her. "Fine, I'll take one of the single beds."

The look on her face was almost tragically apologetic, and she bowed very deeply to him. "I'm sorry, Maxwell-san, but that is impossible. I'm afraid Chang-san specifically requested that room for himself and his fiancé, and made a very large fuss about it, I might add. He absolutely refused to share a bed with her." From the look on her face, though she tried to hide it, Duo could very well picture the exasperating time Wufei had given the poor woman. "Raberba-Winner-san and Barton-san both graciously agreed to share a room together, and I was hoping that there would be no problem in you sharing the remaining room with Yui-san."

Duo grimaced, and sighed. "No, I suppose there really isn't any problem with that." He said, though inwardly, he felt a cold stone of despair settle into his stomach.

Hoshiko bowed deeply again, "I am very sorry, Maxwell-san, I did try to get better arrangements, but the director of the conference, Yamamoto-san, refused to have his star guests housed in anything but the best suite in the hotel. I will try my best to do anything at all necessary to make up for this inconvenience. If there is anything at all I can do, please don't hesitate to call for me or send someone on the conference staff to find me." Her dark eyes looked up at him, and Duo saw the tired, dark rings under her eyes that told him immediately he would do nothing of the sort to make this woman's job any harder than it must already be.

"Come, please, allow me to show you to your room. Yui-san has not arrived yet. Your bag will have already been taken up." She bowed again, this time curtly, and turned towards an elevator alcove. Duo, glad at last to be headed out of the crowd of people, followed her, feeling very much like the single gee gravity was two or three times that much.


	2. Chapter 2

It was to Duo's great relief that Hoshiko informed him that Heero was not due into the city until late the following day. He was, by her admission, extremely hard to get a hold of, and had been unable to attend that first half-day of the conference. So the room would be his alone until the evening following the opening banquet that would be held for all of the attendees of the conference and its special guests, Duo and the other pilots who had been heroes of not one war but two, and had brought unity back to the world.

She said all of this, though in a constant fawning tone that made him grit his teeth under his casual, friendly false smile, in the short time it took them to ride from the ground floor to the penthouse levels of the hotel in the fragile seeming glass elevator that hugged the side of the hotel in almost the same way as Hoshiko hugged the back wall, trying to stay on the hotel side of the elevator. She had a fear of high places, obviously, though Duo noticed her attempts to be casual and simply ignored them to spare her the strain of the attempts, and eventually she gave up. What many took for arrogance was simply his desire to not see people over strain themselves in attempts to match up to the standards they imagined he had.

The elevator slowed gently, and then stopped, its brass doors sliding open without a sound, and Duo followed the too quick steps of Hoshiko from the glass coffin into the pale cream and pastel pseudo living space that was the lower floor of the two levels of the suite that filled the uppermost guest floors of one of the lace like towers of the hotel. A dining area en suite as well as a spacious front closet completed the area, and directly in to the rear of the room was a closed door Duo assumed lead to one of the bedrooms.

Hoshiko pointed to a spiraled iron staircase near the back corner of the front room. "Your room and the room shared by Raberba-Winner-san and Barton-san are both up there. Your bag should already be waiting for you. Before I go, is there anything you need?" She looked hesitant, almost hoping he would ask something of her.

"Are Quatre and Trowa in?" He asked, glancing towards the stairs. His backpack was getting heavy, and a shower was starting to be a good idea in his mind.

"Yes. They left a few hours ago, to sight see and have lunch. They said they would be out until late this evening." She suddenly started, and reached into her purse. She pulled out a bundle of papers, and handed them to Duo. "I'm sorry, Maxwell-san, I completely forgot. Here is your speaking schedule, and a schedule of the entire conference. And here is your key to the elevator." She handed him a white paper envelope with a plastic magnetic card in it. "Forgive me, I have been flustered ever since Chang-san came in this morning. I am quite thankful he has gone visiting family for the rest of the day and evening." She blushed. "Is there anything else I can do? The room service menu is both here and there should be a copy in your room." She fidgeted.

"I'm fine. Thank you for being so kind." He smiled, and it seemed to set her at ease.

"Enjoy your evening," she said, and was gone back into the golden doors of the elevator.

* * *

Duo sighed heavily as he slung his backpack onto one of the small, yet obscenely overstuffed, chairs that clustered in the corner of the room. He threw himself down onto the foot of the bed heavily and quickly worked off his lightweight boots and socks before even beginning to shed his heavy leather jacket. Looking down at his feet on the thick pile, cream-colored carpet, the idea of a shower latched its self so firmly into his mind that there was no question remaining that he needed one. He could feel the dirt of the spaceport, of the airport, of the planes, closing in over his skin and clogging his pores in such a way he could not escape it. All the filth of humanity seemed to be covering his skin, and worse, he could all but feel the ends of his hair splitting and breaking from the dry air.

Yes, a shower would do him good, he thought, taking off the jacket and laying it on the bed. Maybe it would relax him, help him forget the inevitable meeting between Heero and himself the next day. He stretched, using the catlike motion to strip off the black turtleneck he customarily wore as casual dress and turn it right side out in one fluid move. His braid fell heavily against his back, slick with dirt and grease from not having been washed and badly in need of re-braiding, and he swung it around his neck so that it hung over his shoulder. He folded the black turtleneck and put on the foot of the bed, alongside the jacket and the thick socks he picked up off the floor. Left in only the black jeans, belted tight at his narrow waist, Duo walked quickly to the bathroom, through the immaculate outer area of it, and into the shower area, drawing the door shut behind him.

The bath area was small, yet it had jammed into it a very deep bath set into a raised section of the floor as well as a rather spacious shower stall set back into the wall. Duo was thankful that the pastel and cream décor had been discontinued here in favor of a darker color scheme of grays and blues, and even more thankful that there were a plethora of towels, instead of the usual one set per person, since it usually took at least two towels just to dry his hair. All but purring to himself, he examined the shower stall, noticing the no slip floor mat, the detachable shower head, and the full sized bottle of hotel shampoo that was already sitting inside the alcove next to an unopened bar of soap. It was too bad; he thought with a smirk, that he didn't have a woman to share the shower with, since the shower was big enough for two people comfortably. On the heels of that thought though, a memory tried to poke its self up through a mental wall, making him wince, and he quickly discontinued that line of thought.

Turning quickly to spread the thick, white bathmat in front of the shower, Duo blanked out the thought with the idea of how good the hot water shower would feel. Showers in the colonies were short, near waterless affairs, with very little hot water, because even when you could afford the water to shower, you didn't waste it. This one thing made visits to earth tolerable, worth the aches and pains of higher gravity and the thicker, pollutant-ridden air. Duo reached in and turned on the hot water, letting it rise in the pipes to run at the near scalding temperature that he loved, closing the shower door so it would steam up and warm the air as well as the tiles.

Duo undid the belt on the jeans, and slid out of them and the silk boxers underneath all at once, kicking them away from the shower to in front of the bathtub, away from any water that might get out of the shower. Out of all his clothes finally, Duo stretched his full body, like a great cat waking from a nap, and then reached to turn out the overhead light. The darkness of the small room closed in around him before he switched on the pale red glow of the overhead heat light. This subdued lighting was his preferred light, especially for a nice long hot shower.

He reached and lifted the end of his braid to his face, and pulled loose the elastic from around the end, and slowly began pulling and tugging at the cords of hair to undo the braid that reached past his hips. At last, his hair fell loose completely, its tips brushing the backs of his calves, sending a slight shiver up his spine with each movement, and its wavy dark surface completely covering his back. He was glad it covered his back as he caught his reflection in the mirror, glad not to see the starburst of a scar on the back of his right shoulder, but it did not hide the other scars across his chest and arms, his reminders of the violence of war, and worse, the violence of his enemies the handful of times he had been a prisoner. That small starburst on his shoulder though, that was a reminder of pain of a different kind.

Duo shivered again, and all but threw himself in the shower, closing the shower door loudly behind him. The hot water enveloped him, running down through his hair, and over his shoulders and chest, melting away the thoughts that were yammering in his mind with its heat, clearing his head with the hot steam. He sighed, and breathed in the warm, damp air deeply, letting the water run over him as he simply stood in the shower, leaning on his out stretched arms that reached to the wall where the faucets were located. He closed his eyes, and felt the streams of hot water run over him like fingers, and tried his best to maintain the numb blankness in his mind. But for all the soothing nature of the hot water that was tracing rivulets down his back and ass and legs, and the warm steam that was filling his lungs the only thought that he could not escape from was the pressing inevitability of his reunion with Heero the next day.

He sighed, and stood strait, taking a blast of hot water strait in the face, and reached up to adjust the showerhead so he could step free of the spray to wash. The hotel soap was lightly scented with one of those indistinguishable scents that forever tugs at the olfactory lobes even after the nose has grown too accustomed to it to smell it at all and thickly sudsy, in the way that most hotel soaps are, and Duo set to work lathering his neck and shoulders with it. It was relaxing feeling, driving the unpleasant thoughts from his mind, and he sighed deeply as he moved the small bar of soap and his sudsy hands over his chest and ribs.

It simply felt good, to relax, to wash the grime of the world off, to be warm and at peace with himself for once. As rare as such moments were, he treasured them, savored them like one would a rare wine. And it almost was as intoxicating, Duo thought, the feeling of his own long but thin fingers tracing the familiar shape of his own body. The smooth feeling of the muscles of his chest, the ripples of his ribs that still showed no matter how much he ate or worked out, the long scar across his right side that had been there longer than he could remember, the barely noticeable indent of his naval with the fine trail of dark, thin hair reaching up to it from his crotch.

All of it was familiar, in that strange way everyone knows their own body, but there were still things he was always surprised when the pads of his fingers brushed across, things he always forgot. The badly healed seventh rib on his left side, whose slight kink and bump under the skin always made him remember the sharp pain of breaking it, and the months of pain afterwards, was one of those bodily quirks he often forgot. Another was the missing toenail on the small toe of his right foot, the only sign that the toe was a clone and not the original, lost in a rather stupid accident involving a forklift a little over a year ago. Little things, but they were a part of who he was.

Duo reached up and aimed the showerhead so it sprayed over him, rinsing the thick lather from his upper body with an almost scalding spray of hot water. The heat made Duo gasp, and shiver slightly with the sudden shock, but the warmth and flowing water felt incredibly good. Aiming it down again, he reached for the shampoo bottle, and unscrewed its top, the proceeded to pour the apple scented cream into his hand, filling his palm. Beginning what would be a long process, Duo transferred the shampoo to his head, and began working it into his thick, dark chestnut colored hair. The handful barely finished the top of his head, but with it done, Duo could bring his hair around his shoulder and pour the bottle directly into the thick mass of hair. This accomplished, it was simply a matter of thoroughly lathering the full length of his hair, heavy and dark with water. Working his fingers through it, Duo combed the shampoo into his hair, enjoying the smell of the shampoo as it foamed.

Finishing at last, Duo let the end of his hair drop, and slug in back over his shoulder. Heavy with the added weight of the shampoo, Duo leaned his head back slightly. He would let it sit and work its magic while he enjoyed the warm steam that rose from the shower spray. He let his mind wander, thinking over what he wanted to do after the shower. Going out would be out of the question, he knew, since his hair usually took most of the night to dry even loose. That meant he would have to call room service for dinner, a prospect he looked forward to since the guidebook he had purchased mentioned the hotel's excellent room service kitchen. Dinner, with a nice bottle of wine, and then he would watch the wall screen until he fell asleep. Sighing, he knew sleep would be hard to come by, especially after the two very long flights today. He would find some way to relax, and hopefully the wine would help.

While the shampoo sat, Duo reached again for the bar of soap. Starting at his hips, where he had stopped, Duo began working the lather across his skin. Thanks to the prolonged time he had spent in the micro-gravity of the colonies, and worse the near zero g of orbital flight, there was very little muscle to him anymore. Not that there had ever been an over abundance, but the jutting bone of his hip made him regret not having worked out more in the last three years. He had probably already lost some bone mass, on top of the weak muscles, he realized, but it was too late to do anything about that. Balancing on one leg at a time, and wishing the shower stall had a bench in it, Duo scrubbed each leg and foot, careful to wash every part, even under his toes. Neatness of person was something he tended to pride himself on, even if everyone around him thought of him as a slob. None of them knew the hours he spent trimming split ends, or the meticulous way he shaved the hair from his balls and behind them. In the colonies he had never met anyone who had caught his attention romantically, and had even given up the one-night stands after four or five times that had only left him sick with himself.

Duo shook his head and sighed, starting to feel the heat of the shower getting to him. It seemed he could only think of bad things today, and nothing more. Best just to get out of this shower and turn on the wall screen to relax myself, he thought, and set to washing out his hair.


	3. Chapter 3

His hair now halfway dry, and dinner ordered and eaten, Duo felt almost human again. Wrapped in a dark red terry cloth robe that matched the hotel interior in a strange way, Duo lay propped up in the center of the bed, eyes looking at but not watching the wall screen opposite him. It was a local news show, but that was all Duo had managed to pay enough attention to understand. His mind was otherwise occupied: he was thinking about Heero.

It had begun strangely, though simply enough, and gone so horribly wrong at the end it was easy for Duo to forget just how good their time together had been. After the Eve wars, in that one year interim of peace that had given them all such a false sense of security, Duo and Heero had shared quarters on board a research colony. They were both there for the same reason: they had no place else to go. And, Duo reflected, it had been comforting to still be around someone he knew, and trusted, even if he had a hard time understanding the stoical Heero Yui. In his own way, Duo learned in the first parts of that year, Heero was just as human as everyone else. Duo and Heero learned each other's patterns, the others likes and dislikes, and the normal things one finds out about a roommate. After the end of three months living together without the constant stress of war, Duo considered himself comfortable around Heero. It had taken one incident demonstrate to Duo that Heero was just as comfortable around him if not more so.

Duo had been laying in his bunk, an alcove set into the bulkhead wall of their room, screened off by a thick curtain, trying to get to sleep one evening. His brain was wired, so awake he couldn't even close his eyes, and worse, his hormones were raging. His skin felt hot to the touch, even in the recycled and cool air, yet he wasn't sweating. Tossing and turning, he could find no comfortable position, thanks to what was becoming an ever more painfully hard erection. All he could think about was how much he wanted some form of sexual release, but he didn't dare since Heero was probably still awake in the bunk below him. Closing his eyes, forcing them to stay shut; he had tried with all his willpower to calm himself down.

"Duo." Heero's voice had broken the silence and startled him so much he had jumped. "Stop tormenting yourself – masturbate and be done with it."

Duo blinked in the darkness, mind suddenly numb from shock. Had Heero just said what he had wondered?

"I know that's what you're up there trying not to do," Heero had continued "but you are keeping me awake tossing and turning. Just get it over with and get some sleep." Duo had then heard the familiar sound of Heero rolling over in bed, curled up in the sleeping bag that kept him secure in the weak gravity of the station.

Duo had lay there, staring into the darkness in shock for another full minute, and then Heero spoke again. "And Duo, don't try to be quiet, you're not very good at it anyway."

"Umm… sorry." He had said dumbly.

With a shrug, and grateful in a strange way to Heero for being so frank, Duo had set to work curing the ache that had become the rock hard erection. He coated his hand in a small amount of the moisturizing oil he had purchased specifically for this use, and found a rhythm that was slow enough to be pleasurable but not enough to stimulate himself to the point of coming. He had found himself thinking about Heero as he moved his hand up and down his own shaft, not so much in a sexual way, but letting his mind wander as the pleasure relaxed him. The strange way Heero watched him when he entered a room, looking but not looking; the casualness he had about clothing or lack thereof; all of the strange quirks Duo had gotten use to living with Heero. All these things fluttered through his mind as his hand moved, sliding and squeezing and releasing, lost in the movement and the pleasure of being alone with himself in his thoughts. It turned out to be one of the more enjoyable times on his own, made better by the fact he didn't have to muffle himself or worry about being quiet.

But what had happened afterwards had permanently dog-eared that page of memory in Duo's mind when he thought about Heero. As he had been laying with his eyes half closed after cleaning up, curled up in his own sleeping bag feeling warm and content with himself, he heard Heero shifting in the bunk below him. Suddenly, the motion had stopped, and he heard Heero grunt softly. Sleepily, Duo had realized what Heero had been doing: he had been jerking off as well. The second realization had come just before he had drifted off to sleep. Heero had been listening to him the whole time, and enjoying it.

* * *

The event had puzzled and troubled Duo for nearly a week, seven days he spent lost in thought as he auto-piloted himself through his days and duties on the station. It was on that seventh day that he made up his mind to ask Heero about it, and to lay his doubt filled mind to rest on the subject. He had waited till the evening, after their brief dinner in their quarters, after they had both showered, and were curling up into their respective bunks as the stations night light cycle began. In the dim light, it was difficult to see things clearly, and they became a sort of monochrome sepia that was disturbing to the eyes, that made you want to close them and sleep until it was light again. Duo lay with his eyes half open, naked all but his boxers, having shed out of his clothes once inside the bag, listening to the sounds of Heero get undressed and zip himself into the lower bunk's bag. Duo knew Heero wore nothing under the spandex pants that were his constant attire, and knew how lithely he could shed out of the shirt at a moment's notice. Duo shivered, realizing that he was beginning to be turned on thinking about Heero like that.

Duo listened, and heard only the sound of Heero settling in to his bed. How long should he wait to speak? Would Heero go right to sleep, or would he lay awake for hours, like he often did? Duo had no way to know. He could feel the butterflies of nervousness in his gut, and the shifting heavy sensation of ill ease that made his lung feel tight. His mind filled with questions, doubts, all the thoughts of the last week flooded his mind at once. He closed his eyes, and slowed his breathing, willing himself to be calm. He would ask Heero, he would end all these doubts now. He opened his eyes and breathed out slowly. There was nothing to do but get it over with.

"Heero? Are you still awake?" Duo asked. His voice sounded too loud to him, and he almost jumped at the sudden sound of it.

Heero turned in his bed beneath him, and made an odd sound before speaking "Yes I am Duo. What do you want?"

"Umm… Remember the other night? When ah… umm…" He stumbled over his own words, suddenly painfully self-conscious. "Remember the other night when I was having trouble sleeping, and well…"  
"When I told you to just jerk off and go to sleep?" Heero finished for him. His voice sounded hard, but it always sounded that way to Duo.

"Yeah. Well, umm…" Duo could feel himself turning red and blushing in the dim light. Why was this so hard to say? He clenched his hands into fists, and the words tumbled out of him. "Did you really enjoy listening to me get off while you were jerking off yourself? Did it turn you on?"

The silence was deafening. His hands were shaking, and he could feel the hot flush of embarrassment all over his face and neck now. How could he have been so stupid as to say it like that? To have said it at all? Heero would go ballistic, and the silence was only the calm before the storm.

"Yes."

Duo jumped in shock when Heero spoke again. His voice was quiet, almost a whisper, like he didn't want Duo to hear it. But he had said yes, the last thing Duo had expected to hear. And he found himself saying something he never thought he would have said.

"Would you like to watch?"

Heero was silent again, and then there was the sound of Heero moving in his bed again. Duo found he was holding his breath, and breathed out loudly, louder than he wanted to.

"Yes, Duo. I would like to watch you, I would enjoy…" Heero paused, and Duo heard him breathe deeply for a moment, "I would enjoy having you down here, and being able to watch you."

Duo's entire body felt hot now, he could feel sweat in the palms of his hands and on the soles of his feet. The flush wasn't embarrassment now; it was excitement. He unzipped the bag, and slid himself out of it, moving carefully in the weak gravity as he maneuvered himself out of it. He shivered in the cool air, and then realized he was shivering from nervousness more than the cold. His stomach clenched and unclenched its self as he climbed down from the bunk, carefully moving himself down the rungs beside his bunk, using them to ease himself to the floor.

The gravity was light enough his braid floated behind him like a tail as he settled himself towards the floor next to Heero's bunk. The privacy curtain was half drawn back, and in the dim light Duo could just see the outline of the head, chest and shoulders of the other pilot. Heero was lying on top of his bag, carefully motionless. Duo pushed himself forward, and pulled himself inside the bunk, pulling himself down onto the bag using the hand holds. His head felt light, and he felt distant from his own actions. All he could look at for a moment were Heero's eyes, their clear blue visible even in the minimal light.

"Duo" Heero's voice brought Duo back to the moment, back to his own awareness. "Duo, are you sure about this?" Duo blinked, it was the first time he had ever heard Heero sound so careful, so unsure.

"Yes, I'm sure." Duo smiled weakly.

He looked around himself, and found himself following the curve of Heero's side, across his ribs and stomach and very naked hips. Without really thinking he slid off his own boxers, letting them fall where they would. Heero's body was beautiful in the dim light, his skin almost the same color as the light its self, sepia and cream, and well-defined muscles moved beneath it like those of some great cat. Duo could feel Heero looking at him the same way, his blue eyes running all over Duo's body, tentative and curious, admiring and hesitating. Without saying a word, Duo carefully rolled to lie on his back, finding in the cramped space of the bunk that his side touched Heero's arm and chest. The skin was warm, and he smelled faintly of something metallic, almost like blood but somehow not so threatening a smell. And it was a relief to know that Heero was breathing almost as rapidly as he was, whether from fear or nervousness or excitement, Duo didn't know or really care.

Duo could still feel Heero's eyes on him, but he made no move to meet them. His hands were shaking as he slid them down his own chest and stomach, towards his crotch. With both hands he encircled the base of his dick and balls and massaged the sensitive tissue there, feeling his already erect dick get harder. The smell of Heero was turning him on even more than he already was, and he could feel Heero trying to shift to keep from poking Duo in the side with his own erection. Duo shivered as he drew one hand up the curve of his shaft, letting the tips of his fingers drag over the skin, and then wrapping his hand around his head and stroking it. Duo bit his lip and groaned softly in his throat, letting his hand slide down his dick slowly.

Duo could hear Heero's rapid breathing, could feel the heat of the skin of his chest on his arm, and it excited him even more than just his own touch ever could. His dick was so hard it was throbbing in his hands as he wrapped the other around himself above the other, and every slight motion of his fingers sent shocks of pleasure through him. He closed his eyes half way, and slowed his breathing till it was calm and deep, and began slowly moving both hands up and down his shaft, working towards finding the perfect rhythm. It was so difficult though, he was so sensitive, and so turned on just by knowing Heero was watching him, that he fought to keep from coming almost from the first minute. It became a battle of will and pleasure, holding himself back to extend the pleasure, to give Heero a good show, but wanting to come and let the orgasm overcome him. His whole body shivered with the effort and the stimulation.

"Duo." Heero's whisper intruded into his mind. "Duo, please… can I touch you?"

Duo remembered opening his eyes and finding himself looking at Heero's face, only inches from his own. He hadn't answered, but let loose with one of his hands and reached up and touched Heero's cheek, drawing his face down towards his own. And he had kissed Heero, using the surprise of the moment to push apart his lips with his tongue and kiss him deeply, drawing him down even more towards him. Heero had only made a shocked sound, a short gasp, and then given over to it, and let his own tongue intertwine with Duo's. As they kissed, Heero's hands found their way around Duo's body, touching him and running over him, one reaching down and joining Duo's hand, joining in the slow rhythm. Wrapped around each other, drowning in Heero's scent and his touch, Duo had lasted only moments more before his body exploded in orgasm, his dick twitching as his come had spread its self on his belly, loose droplets floating slowly downwards to land in strange places they would find days later and laugh about.

It had taken only moments for them to clean up, and they never let go of each other in the process of it. As soon as they were done, they had curled back around each other, and before the night cycle had ended, Duo remembered, they had learned the intimacies of masturbating the other. And then they had slept, curled in the womb-like bunk together in the darkness.


	4. Chapter 4

Duo woke in the silence of the hotel room the next morning to find himself curled on top of the covers of the bed, his robe haven fallen open in his sleep. He had been dreaming memories of Heero all night, dreaming about how good things had been. There had been none of the nightmares, none of the terrible memories that woke him screaming, or made the tears run down his face in his sleep, only the good memories from back when everything had begun.

If only things had stayed that way, Duo thought to himself as he stood up, retying the robe before making his way to the bathroom. He went through all the routines of the morning, grooming himself to look moderately civil. When he looked at himself in the mirror he saw a tired face, barely recognizable as his own. Even with good dreams he had not slept well. But what did he want; he had done it to himself, thinking of Heero so much.

After finishing in the bathroom, shaved and brushed and washed, he began pulling clothes from his backpack. Many were in dire need of ironing, especially his slacks, but he managed to find a dark green turtle neck and khaki pants that were reasonably civilized looking. The rest he folded and piled in a hamper in the room closet that was labeled for the hotel laundry service, including the clothes he had worn the day before. Sitting down on the bed, he looked at the speaking schedule he had been given yesterday, and skimmed over it, looking to see when he was scheduled. Out of the weeklong conference, he was scheduled to speak only twice, once tomorrow and once the day after. All he had to do other than that was make appearances at the opening dinner this evening and the closing dinner at the end.

Heero will be at dinner tonight, Duo thought. The thought made him think of the others, who he had yet to see. Quatre would be impeccably dressed, as always, the boy was a perfect fit in anything; Wufei and Trowa would be in their white Peace Keepers uniforms, spotless and starched so much they could stand up on their own. What would he wear? Compared to that, nothing he had brought even seemed to stand up to comparison. It dawned on him that, with nothing else to do for the day, he might as well take advantage of being in one of the economic centers of the world, and do some shopping  
.   
Surely somewhere in this city, Duo thought, I can find something to wear. But first, I need something to eat.

* * *  
Duo had sat near the back of the smallest of the three restaurants of the hotel as he had finished his breakfast as he reviewed the addresses of several excellent stores that Takato Hoshiko had found for him with surprising swiftness. He had nearly missed the breakfast menu, but the miso soup had been warm and the salmon over rice had been filling enough to last him thought most of the day. With the food gone, and the meal charged to the room account, Duo had found his way to the front of the hotel, and had a cab called for him by the desk.

Now, seated in the back of yet another of the strange black cabs that would have seemed more at home in London than in Tokyo, despite himself, Duo found himself looking forward to spending the day shopping. Hoshiko had been regretful that she could not send someone to escort him, but had handed over her personal wireless videophone along with the direct number to her pager and the hotel desk's VIP line. She had produced, as if almost expecting it, a list of men's clothing stores and tailors with addresses and comments about their selections, an itemized list of everything any man could possibly need in fashion, from underwear and socks to tuxedos.

Several of the stores on the list had caught his eye as possible candidates. The first was a store specializing in Neo-Japanese fashions, retooling traditional Japanese styles into modern casual and formal attire. The second was a high class transplant from the remnants of the American fashion industry, whose clothing specialized in being technologically advanced, always involving some new fiber or filament. Two more were British specialty shops, one traditional and one modern, and the final one was an accessory store that claimed it could match a full set of shoes, gloves, socks, and anything else needed to any outfit.

All in all it promised to be a productive day.

* * *

The Neo-Japanese store had been a failure utterly; with nothing even vaguely catching Duo's eye, and the ever-apologetic sales women had driven him to near madness. The American store had been better, and he had acquired two new pairs of slacks, both black, and a pair of natural leather pants, far better than the vat grown leather that was available in the colonies. He had spend a good deal of time eyeing a lamb's leather black full length trench coat, and had even tried it on repeatedly, but had passed it up, knowing full well that full trenches were all but useless in micro gravity, no matter how wonderful they looked in a full gee. He had skipped the traditional British shop, having spotted its modern counterpart on the way there, and it had been there he had found what he was looking for.

It was on display on a dress makes dummy in the back corner of the shop, a two thirds length curve tailed opera coat, with brilliant sterling silver buttons in the deepest and cleanest shade of black Duo had ever seen. The assistant who had been showing him around the store had told him it was an unclaimed order, and that it would sell much lower than its original custom price tag had been if he wanted it. Duo, ever the pragmatist, had fallen instantly in love with it. The assistant then swiftly compiled the rest of the outfit from the stocks available, a matching vest, wide legged Gabardine style pants, and a silk shirt so shockingly white it seemed made of paper rather than cloth. The items needed only minor alterations, carried out right in the shop as he waited, before they fit him as though made for him personally. The entire outfit, the assistant informed him, rang up to several hundred less than the coat should have cost alone, and Duo had only grinned as he had paid for it out of the account the Raberba-Winner Foundation was prone to depositing supposedly anonymous checks into.

After that, it had taken him another two hours in the accessory store to find the appropriate finishing touches to the outfit. Black, all leather Oxford shoes with puritan squared toes, a black leather belt so nearly the same color as the pants that it was invisible except for the silver buckle, socks that vanished into the shoes and pants effortlessly, a pair of black, lamb skin gloves that seemed to fit well with everything, and on the spur of the moment Duo had even bought a new pair of contour fitting boxers, also in the same shade of black, to complete the whole ordeal.

And, as the afternoon wound down, Duo directed the cab driver back towards the hotel, finally satisfied that he would make as dramatic an impression on everyone at the dinner as possible. He reminded himself that once he had worn only the cassock of a priest, and somehow, the outfit that filled the packages in the trunk of the cab echoed that old costume of his. He had been the god of death once, and maybe that old persona could serve him again tonight when he faced the man who had very nearly killed him, and had nearly made him kill himself; when he faced Heero Yui once more.


	5. Chapter 5

Duo rode down the tube of the bronze and glass elevator alone once more, wondering not for the first time where the other pilots were that he had not seen them yet. The ensemble he had purchased during the day felt like a second skin to him, better than any outfit he had worn since the cassock, and it gave him a determination he had not had before. He rode in silence, waiting for the slowing of the car to bring him at last to the floor where the elevator to the main ballroom of the hotel started, about half way down the building.

He disembarked into the elevator lobby, a carefully constructed area that served as the waypoint of the many express elevators of the hotel, and found himself nearly face to face with Trowa Barton and Quatre Raberba-Winner. The two stood at the elevator door, waiting for the express back to the suite. Both of their faces lit with surprise when they saw him step out of the elevator car.

"Duo!" Quatre exclaimed, smiling brightly, "We were just going up stairs to find you. We hadn't seen you yet, and Hoshiko wanted to have the four of us together when we went in to the ballroom."

"So we were coming to get you." Trowa finished in his even, mocha rich voice.

"Well, here I am." Duo said, smiling widely. "It's good to see you two again. How I managed to not see you for a full day and a half still is a mystery to me, but here you are."

Quatre smiled. "We've both been busy. As head of the Foundation, everyone here seems to want to talk to me. And since Trowa was promoted to Lieutenant General in the Peace Keepers, he seems to be needed everywhere at once."

He seemed about to say more, when Trowa interrupted calmly. "Why don't we continue this as we go up stairs? Wufei and Li are waiting for us, Quatre, remember?"

The three of them called the ballroom elevator, and quickly stepped into the car as its doors slid silently open, and then closed again. The ride was filled with pleasant talk, the catching up of friends who had not spoken in a long period of time. Duo complemented Trowa on the new Peace Keepers uniforms, how much better the white looked than the older styles, especially on the wall screen. Trowa had chuckled and said he had little or nothing to do with them, but agreed completely. Quatre had made comments about everything from the weather to Duo's shoes, and had even talked a great deal about the mysterious Li, the woman who was to marry Wufei within the month. Nothing was said about Heero: Trowa and Quatre both knew.

* * *

Alone in the glass and brass coffin that was the elevator car to the suite, Duo stood in the corner, supporting himself on the railing as the car rose up the side of the hotel. Duo had escaped from the dinner as fast as he could, simply being so close to Heero had shaken him to the core. All had gone so well in Duo's mind, and Duo had felt so sure of himself, that he had thought everything would go off without a hitch. Now, he stood trembling and half-drunk, fleeing to his room to hide until the inevitable confrontation would occur.

Duo, Trowa, Quatre, Wufei, and Wufie's fiancé Li had entered the ballroom together, and had been seated at one of the tables near the front of the room. Drinks had been served, and Duo had steeled his nerves with alcohol. Speeches had been made, announcements, plans and introductions spoken ceremoniously, and as they had drawn to a close, a thin figure in a black uniform had entered the room and been announced. Heero Yui, Chief Officer of Intelligence for the Home Guard, the leader of the heroic Gundam pilots who saved Earth and the colonies from themselves. Heero had entered, his uniform as black as a dark phase tiger's pelt, and fitting him like a second skin. He still moved the same, he still sounded the same, his eyes were still the same cold blue; and Duo could feel his gut turning its self inside out as Heero had made his speech, and Duo knew he could stay no longer than that.

So he had turned tail and fled as dinner had been served, before Heero could make it to their table. Trowa and Quatre had watched him go, each regarding the other with the same grim expression, but made no move to follow him. And as the brass doors slid open onto the suite, Duo knew he had no choice but to wait in the room for Heero, and face him there. He retreated quickly to it, up the stairs and into the separate room opposite Trowa and Quatre's door. Finding the closet filled with Heero's clothing, he hung the opera coat over the back of one of the chairs, and sat down only after calling down for a bottle of wine to be sent up via the pneumatic dumbwaiter in the room. This was where he would wait for him, and what ever happened, this was where it would happen.

How had it gone so terribly wrong, Duo wondered as he drank the first glass slowly. Things had been so ideal between them during that short time before the second war. And even the stress of the war had not shaken them apart. But when peace came, things had changed between them, subtly at first, and Duo had been blind to it.

They had lived together in Neo-New York, in a high-rise condominium building two blocks from New Broadway. Neither of them worked, they had no reason to, so their days were spent together in the city of glass and lights. Duo had been enraptured by the city, in love with it from the start, yet Heero grew ever more silent and brooding. Heero had started work on a book on tactical theory based on his experiences with the Zero System, and soon it encompassed his every waking hour but a precious handful. That little remaining time was spent with Duo, usually locked in their bedroom, and always in some sort of sexual activity.

And as Heero's mood darkened, and he became more and more introverted, the sex had steadily become more rough and violent, turning into games of dominance and sadism. Duo had submitted himself to it, enjoying it at first, finding something deeply bonding in the catharsis Heero seemed to find in the acts. This persisted for months, until mid summer, when Heero had vanished for a week, leaving Duo in a mad panic. He had searched the city constantly, checking every possible means of travel for signs of Heero having left, but found nothing. After the seven days were up, Heero had appeared in the doorway to the condo, silently entered, ignoring Duo's yells and curses, and showered. Duo had waited patiently for Heero to come out of the shower, waited for an hour as the water ran and ran, until at last Heero had turned off the water and opened the door.

Before Duo could say another word, Heero had spoken, his voice soft and even. "Duo, please don't say anything. I need you…. I need you to be what you have been so well before. Please… One last time, that's all I ask."

Duo had started to protest, to continue his outpouring of pent up anxiety and worry, to communicate to Heero all the fear and pain he had felt in the last week he had been gone, but anger had flashed in Heero's eyes like lightning. Heero lashed out at Duo, the blow connecting with his jaw hard enough to cause partially lose consciousness, blinding him with a sea of swirling colors.

When he had finally come to completely again, he found himself naked, lying on his back, blindfolded, and bound in such a way his legs were held back and apart, bent at the knees but he was unable to move them, and his arms secured over his head, attached to something behind him, probably the same thing as his legs. He was gagged loosely, and his first impulse was to scream, but Heero's voice stopped him.

"Oh, Duo, Duo. I'm sorry. I tried so hard to be good, to stay away, but I couldn't." Heero was sitting beside him now. Duo could feel his weight on the soft surface that must be their bed. Heero had bound him like this before, but never by force, and the tone of his voice frightened Duo more than anything. He could feel Heero moving on the bed, moving closer to him, hear his breathing, but could do nothing, nor even whimper. He clenched his jaw, closed his eyes under the blindfold, and braced himself for whatever would come next.

Heero's hands touched his chest, running over the skin of his front slowly, caressing him. The fingertips brushed his nipples, touching them just enough to cause them to become hard, teasing them almost indirectly. Heero's hands were chill to the touch, and their cold made him shiver involuntarily every time they strayed onto his belly. He felt Heero move again, and now the hands were touching his legs, running down the inside of his thighs, almost purposefully avoiding his crotch. It was though Heero were trying to calm Duo, to make him relax and accept whatever was about to come. Duo could not relax; he could barely control his breathing, yet despite his fear he could feel himself becoming aroused. Heero's hands left him, leaving him alone and devoid of sensation, and Duo could not stop the soft moan that formed itself in his throat.

Suddenly he felt the wet warmth of Heero's tongue touching the soft skin behind his balls, moving up along the curve of his body before toying with the shaved skin of his balls. Duo bit his lip around the gag, trying not to show any enjoyment of it, but the sensation was too pleasurable, and he lost control of himself as Heero's tongue traced lines up and down the length of his dick, moaning around the gag, trying to move his hips forward against the pull of the bonds. Heero had only chuckled, and continued to lick slowly for another few minutes, tormenting Duo before he pulled away.

"Oh you selfish thing. You want pleasure just for yourself." Heero's voice was dark, emotionless, and as cold as it had been the first time Duo had met him. Duo's balls contracted with fear, and he tried to move to cover himself, to twist out of the bonds that held him so exposed. "Maybe I should just kill you now, to make up for not killing you when I first laid eyes on you."

Duo held his breath as something cold and metallic touched his chest, the unmistakable shape of the muzzle of the semi-automatic pistol that was Heero's favorite from his collection. Duo started to cry out, but it only came out as a whimper, and tears started to run down his face. What was wrong? What had happened to Heero to make him do this?

"Be quiet, or I will kill you." Duo stopped the sound, but could not stop the tears that kept falling, soaking his blindfold. "Good. Now be still." The muzzle tip moved slowly down Duo's belly, tracing a cold line across his skin, and then it moved so that it touched the head of Duo's still hard dick. Duo gritted his teeth as he felt the cold steel trace a line down his shaft, his mind confused beyond rational thought by the signals of pleasure and fear mixed together so violently. His balls contracted further, trying to crawl up inside of his body to protect themselves as the muzzle touched them, and he heard Heero chuckle emptily.

"How much you like being penetrated, Duo, how much you like having me inside of you." Heero's voice was a whisper, distant and empty, and as he spoke the muzzle rested against the constricted ring of Duo's ass. With a sharp shove, Heero forced the muzzle of the gun into Duo, and had Duo cried out, screaming as the tears of pain mixed with those of terror. "How much do you like having me in you now, Duo? How good is it now?" Heero began saying over and over, working the barrel deeper up Duo's ass, pushing against the terrified constrictions of his violated body as Duo continued to cry out in pain and terror. Most terrible of all, Duo could feel the gun rubbing against his prostate, stimulating him in that deepest place of his body that he could not mentally deny, even with terror for his life. Terrible minutes passed, every one torture as his body's reflexes betrayed the pain and fear that filled the rest of his mind as Heero pushed the barrel of the semi-automatic deeper into his body, until his body let loose in an orgasm that threaten to tear apart his body and sanity and soul all at once. Come spilled out onto his belly, covering him in the fowl evidence of his own body's betrayal of his mind, and he could hear Heero laughing insanely over his own screams of pain and pleasure. And suddenly, he had known nothing but merciful, empty darkness.

When he regained consciousness once more, he found himself untied, the gag and blindfold removed, but still lying on the bed. His own come still covered his belly, smeared and half coagulated, and come leaked from his raw ass onto the bed with a disturbing pink tinge that spoke of bleeding and torn tissues. Heero had knocked him unconscious and then continued to rape him until either he had become exhausted or satisfied, and then left after untying him. Duo, alone, terrified, and mortified to the core of his being, had done the only thing he could manage to do: he had curled up in the filth that surrounded him on the bed, and had cried until sleep had claimed him.


	6. Chapter 6

Duo remembered clearly what it had been like waking up after that. He had slept for hours, how many he still didn't know, before waking up to find himself back in the nightmare his life had suddenly become. His first thoughts had been a jumble of pain and confusion, wondering what had happened to cause this. Had he done something, somehow, to cause Heero to do this? Worse, had it been some inaction on his part, some failure to fill some need that Heero had of him? Duo felt the panic and fear of the experience roll over him again, and his entire body shook with the sobs that escaped him.

But deep in the back of his mind he knew he had to do something, knew he had to escape this place before Heero came back again. Next time, Duo realized, Heero might kill him, or do worse to him than he had done before and leave him helpless to escape. He had to leave the city, he had to find someone who could hide him, and he had to escape before Heero came back. He carefully sat up from the bed, trying hard not to see the stains that covered the sheets, or the black rope that had held him tied in place that lay strewn in coils over the bed and floor like some black serpent. He could feel the bruises on his face and legs, the swelling lump on the side of his head, and the horrible ache between his legs that stabbed into his body with every movement. He had to escape all of this, to find some safe harbor somehow.

He had stood slowly, his entire body shaking with the effort just to stand on his own two feet again. He felt vulnerable, standing there naked in the florescent light of the room, yet he couldn't move to find clothes, he couldn't even lift an arm. The sight of himself in the mirror on the wall froze him, the full-length sheet of glass Heero had installed for him when they had first moved in. The bruises were bigger than they felt, and abrasions marked the darkest ones on his legs where he had pulled against the ropes in his struggles, his hair was a tangled matt of dark brown, with patches of dried come and god only knew what else in it, and dried come still covered his belly and upper legs.

Revulsion had welled up in him suddenly then, and he collapsed to his knees and had vomited on the floor, spilling what little there had been in his stomach and dry heaving for painfully long minutes. He was covered in the filth of what had happened to him, most of it the horrible evidence of his body's mutinous enjoyment of the ordeal. Heero had violated him, tortured him, and had used his own body to humiliate him. The tears had come back again, and it had been an effort of ultimate will for him to stand up again and make his way to the bathroom. He would wash off every spot of evidence from his body, remove all of the filth and signs of violation he could before doing anything else. He had to, or he would never live with himself for another moment.

Somehow, he had crawled into the shower, half walking half stumbling there, and turned on the shower. The water was too hot, nearly scalding, but it had felt like a blessing to Duo, burning off all the filth from his skin as it ran over the bruises and cuts. He collapsed again into the bottom of the shower, letting the water lash at him and wash him clean, his mind numbed from any thoughts or feelings by the pain of the water running over his skin. Time passed at an unknown rate, there was only the spray of water, the cleansing pain of his skin, and the cold tile beneath his side, nothing else. He could not move, could not think, could not act on anything, but felt as though he would lay there beneath the scalding spray forever. Wait until his skin washed away, and the muscle underneath, until nothing was left but bone, and eventually even that would wash away. Then nothing would be left: none of the shame or anger or pain, not even wisps of hair for anyone to find, for even they might betray his shame somehow.

He wasn't sure when he started crying again, but he was aware suddenly that he had stopped. His eyes and face were raw and sore, his skin was bright red, and the water from the shower was starting to cool. He had to go, he had to move, he had to leave. If nothing else, he had to leave so no one would find him here, trapped by his self-loathing in the shower stall, naked and covered in the marks of the violence that had been done to him. Shakily, his muscles sore from the absence of motion for what could have been hours, he pulled himself up to his feet, using the towel bar inside the shower. He let his hair loose, ignoring the tangles, and let the cold water run through it fully, straightening out most of the tangles and washing out whatever had been left in it, and then rebound it, but not into its usual braid. It hung strait, dark from the water, down his back all the way to his calves, cold against his skin, as the water grew nearly icy. It was time now, he had to leave.

* * *

The woman behind the ticketing counter smiled happily at him, her too tight uniform revealing a bit much of the outline of what was beneath. Duo really didn't mind that so much as the fawning way she looked at him, and the fact that she seemed to think she was his greatest fan, and had to say it at every turn.

"In the next three hours, how many flights are leaving for any part of Eastern Europe?" Duo asked, trying not to be annoyed by the wiggling and giggling of the girl.

"Eight, Mr. Maxwell. Where in particular are you looking to go, and I'll see how close I can get you on one of them." She smiled, blushing a bit.

"Wien, Austria." He said, and then at her blank look, amended "Vienna" which elicited a smile and a flurry of typing from the girl. Duo could feel the tightness of his skin under the blemish cover he had applied to hide the bruises on the side of his head, and the lump, while invisible, throbbed with every beat of his heart. His backpack and briefcase were heavy, pulling on his injuries uncomfortably, though most were bandaged in some way.

"We have two flights that could get you close, but none to Vienna until tomorrow. I could book you for that if you would like, there are still plenty of seats available…"

"Where are the two flights to?"

"One is to Frankfurt, the other is to Budapest."

"When are they? Which is sooner?"

"The one to Frankfurt, Mr. Maxwell. But I don't understand, there are still plenty of seats on the flight tomorrow…"

He ignored her protest. Tomorrow would be too late, much to late, he had to leave now.

"Book me on that one, the one to Frankfurt. I don't care how much the seat costs; just tell me when it leaves."

She hesitated, confused by the agitation in his voice. "Yes, right away." She processed his purchase, and asked for his payment. He handed her several neatly folded hundred-denomination traveler's checks, and told her where to wire the remaining amount. She gave him his boarding pass, and the gate information, and he thankfully vanished into the crowd.


	7. Chapter 7

Nearly a day later, Duo had found himself in the middle of old Vienna, riding one of the trolley lines, looking for the street name and address his electronic address book displayed. All of the German street names looked the same, and his mid was fuzzed with fatigue. The only blessing of that was it kept the thoughts away; the terrible memories that flashed back into his mind and brought tears back to his eyes. He had gotten away, it seemed, managed to put enough distance between himself and Heero to find some safe haven. And the address he was looking for was that safe haven: Trowa.

Trowa lived in Vienna half the year, the other half he lived in Switzerland with Quatre. Duo's only hope was that it was still early enough in the fall that Trowa had not yet left for the snow and comfort of Switzerland, and was still here in Vienna. He scanned for the address, eyes loosing focus if he didn't remain constantly attentive. How much longer did he have to ride, he wondered? The GPS in his address book said he should be almost on top of it, and yet there seemed to be no sign.

The trolley stopped, and Duo looked around him. Suddenly, he spotted a street sign on the side of a building on what looked like nothing more than an alleyway, not even big enough for a small European car. That was it that was the street. Duo bounded, or as best he could, off the trolley before it began to move again, grabbing his bag and briefcase, all but throwing himself at the street with the last of his energy. The alley was dark, and frighteningly run down looking. Had Duo stopped to think about it, he might have wondered if he were in the right place, but it was all he could do to follow the narrow street back until it dead ended into a front door with white marble steps.

Duo looked up, forcing his eyes to focus, and read the brass numbers beside the door. The address was right, this was the right place; he pulled himself up the stairs carefully, and carefully pushed the bell button marked with "BARTON, T. N." in a flowing script on a placard above it. It buzzed softly, like an angry mosquito in the distance. To Duo's surprise, the door simply opened, its latch released remotely. Startled, he stepped inside, uncertain of what he would find.

He found himself in front of a modest, spiral iron staircase reset away from the door, and a hallway that extended in either direction before turning and vanishing. He stood, dumb founded and too exhausted to think, waiting for someone to appear. Minutes passed, and then suddenly there were footsteps on the iron stairs. Trowa, dressed in a mocha colored silk dressing gown, his hair brushed back off his face and tucked behind his ears in a style Duo had never seen before, carefully descended the stairs, green eyes fixed on Duo.

"Duo, what on earth are you doing here? You look like hell." Trowa said calmly, his voice even but not emotionless. It was simply curious, asking questions within questions.

"Trowa…" Duo tried to start, and suddenly collapsed onto his hands and knees, dropping both his back and briefcase at once, the sound a solid impact of flesh and luggage colliding with hard wood floor. Trowa jumped towards him, trying to catch him as he fell, but missed.

"Duo, what's wrong?"

"I'm tired, Trowa…" Duo managed, his head pounding harder than it had since it had been hit. His vision was trying to cloud over. "Trowa, you have to help me…Heero's…" But that was all he had managed, and the fog had over taken his vision, and both sleep and unconsciousness again claimed him as theirs.

* * *

When Duo woke again, he felt almost whole again, until the sudden memories came flooding back of where he was and how he had gotten there. It took him a moment to put everything together, to remember the trip, and collapsing on Trowa's doorstep almost. He found himself in a darkened room, the window shades drawn, lying on a bed with very fine cotton sheets of an indistinguishable color, naked except for his boxers and bandages. All he could think, over and over again, was that he had escaped.

Duo carefully rolled himself out of the bed, and stood, steadily for the first time in longer than felt possible, and looked around himself. Someone, he assumed Trowa, had left him a neatly folded stack of clothes on the foot of the bed. Duo gingerly, because of his bruises, dressed himself in the long sleeved black shirt and black pants. There were no socks, nor anything else, only the pants and shirt. Duo, happy to finally feel almost human again, ignored the constant pinpricks of pain the shirt caused his still bandaged wrists.

Once dressed, he found his way to the door, and let himself out. He found himself in an early twentieth century style flat, complete with art deco and all the various other trappings of that lost age. There was a fortune in antiques alone in the apartment, Duo realized. Quatre kept Trowa better funded than he had ever suspected, or perhaps this was the result of some shrewd investment on Trowa's part. Trowa was sitting on a corduroy love seat in the corner of the room next to the only modern thing in the room, a video phone, writing notes on a thick pad of yellow paper. Trowa looked up with a start, realizing Duo's presence.

"Duo, welcome back to the land of the living." What almost looked like a smile briefly touched Trowa's face.

"You saw…" Duo started, not sure what else to say.

"Yes, Duo. When I carried you upstairs I noticed you had blood on your socks, soaking threw from underneath. I undressed you and cleaned what I dared, and then put you in bed to sleep." Darkness passed over the green eyes, and lingered ominously. "What happened to you, Duo, you look like we all use to back during the war."

Duo felt himself about to collapse again, his vision faded and blurred. He had to tell someone, he had come all this way to escape, and he had to do this.

"Duo? Why don't you come sit down and tell me," Trowa said, almost at a whisper.

Duo sat, sinking into the padding of the couch. He breathed deeply, and tried not to faint again, though he felt like it would be the best thing he could do.

And then suddenly the words fell out of him, landing like stones in a clear pool. "Heero did this, he raped me and threatened to kill me. He's gone completely insane, Trowa." The shocked silence that followed stabbed at Duo. "You don't believe me do you…" Duo's heart sank.

"I believe you, Duo. Tell me what happened, tell me what he did." Had that been anger in those empty green eyes for a moment, gone like a spring rain?

And Duo had told everything, more than he had wanted to. He had told every horrible detail, every terrible moment, and even his shame, the worst of it, how his body had betrayed him so badly in it all. And he told how, then, afterwards, the guilt and the shock, the cleansing, how he had wanted to melt into nothing, and be nothing. And after it had all come out, flowing like a river, Duo had cried again, locked up inside himself in self loathing and fear. Trowa, throughout all of it, sat listening, green eyes growing darker and darker, storm clouds on the horizon.


	8. Chapter 8

The darkened hotel room was silent except for the sound of Duo's own breathing. He could hear the sound of his own heart beating, his breath rasping in his chest, and other than that, he was alone with his thoughts: waiting. Fear had settled into his body like a toxin, an acid in his blood that burned under his clammy skin and ate slowly into his brain and body. He felt like a man waiting for death, and in a very real way he realized he very well might be. How close it had come before, how very close Heero had come to killing him, not once, but twice, scaring him mentally and physically in deep, indelible ways. And now he waited for him, resigned that this time there would be no escape.

Better to face it now and die, he thought, face it now and end it. I can't live like this any longer.

He found his mind wandering back to the small amount of Catholic faith he had been exposed to, and wishing deeply that he could have a last confession. His sins were great, he had killed many, far too many, and he had committed acts that were unquestionably sinful in his short life. But perhaps it was better to die without forgiveness, he thought, so that he might work them off somehow in death. So many quiet ghosts haunted his soul, and too many followed him in his mind daily that he rarely felt at peace any longer. He had been the god of death, and perhaps in death he would find forgiveness. Duo closed his eyes, and felt despair threaten to overtake him again. He would have no last mass, nor last confession, none of the last rights he had been taught once to find comfort in. But nor had any of those he had killed so mercilessly years ago in the wars, nor had any of those who had been killed at the church on that horrible day.

This is how I die, he thought, alone, in the darkness; death has come calling for its avatar at last.

He found himself praying, silently, something he had not done in years, not since his first days of the war. Maybe there was a god other than death, maybe there was some sort of grand salvation he could find. But if there was, it was too late now for him, he was sure. And yet his mind found comfort in the repetition: Holy Mary, pray for me; Mary Mother of grace, Mother of mercy, do thou protect me from the enemy and receive me at the hour of my death.

Duo felt the air move in the room, the stirring of currents that marked the opening of the near silent hotel room door. Duo knew who had opened it, and knew without thought the footsteps on the thick pile carpet. The door closed soundlessly, the breeze stirring again and then gone, the room still and dark again.

Holy Mary, pray for me….

Then, more footsteps, silent except for the slight scuff on the carpet of boot soles, and Duo could feel the eyes on his back in the darkness.

Mary Mother of Grace, Mother of mercy….

The footsteps came closer behind him, steady, even, slow, catlike in their cadence. Duo's stomach was in knots with fear, yet he could not move, could not even turn to look behind him, to see his own death eye to burning blue eye.

Do thou protect me from the enemy….

He could hear Heero's breath now, and feel the stir of air from his movement. He couldn't be more than two yards away, a handful of steps now. When would it come? How would he die? Shot, or a knife, or Heero's long fingered hands around his throat… so many ways he could possibly die. Duo prayed that it would at least be swift.

Receive me at the hour of my death….

The hand closed on Duo's shoulder, long fingered and delicately boned, unmistakably belonging to only one person: Heero Yui. Duo tried not to stiffen, but suddenly drew in his breath at the touch. He could feel his hands trembling, and hoped that the shake would not betray its self in the rest of his body. Duo could smell Heero, that smell he remembered so well, like an intoxicating flower, that filled his nose completely and still made him remember those things done in the dark so long ago. He felt sick, he wanted to run, but he could not move, so frozen with fear was he.

Heero's hand moved slowly, fingertips and the back of the hand running slowly over the flesh of his neck and then onto his cheek. Duo shivered, and found himself holding his breath and clenching his jaw. Heero's hand moved down his face again, and across the back of his neck, and then dropped away suddenly.

"Will you say nothing, Duo?" Heero's voice said softly, off to Duo's left behind him. "Tears of anger, shouts of hate, screams of rage, even a bullet in my gut I expected more than to find you waiting in the darkness, resigned like a man condemned." The hand rose back and rested again on Duo's shoulder. "I have things to say if you will listen to me, though I have no apologies to offer that would be worthy of you to accept. But please," Heero's voice was still as emotionless as ever, though now it sounded simply empty, lost, and hollow, "if you will listen, at least see my face when I speak."

Duo didn't say a word, he couldn't think of anything to say that would make any coherence. But he stood, shakily and jerkily, and turned around. In the darkness he could see Heero standing on the other side of the chair, dressed in the black uniform. His face was unreadable, empty, in the darkness, and his hands were both visibly empty.

"Can we turn on a light?" Duo found himself asking. Heero nodded, and moved towards the bedside lamp closest, and turned it on. The light was yellow, and the lampshade cast shadows around the room. Heero looked the same in the light as he had in the darkness. Duo, against his better judgment, sat down on the bed as well, pulling his legs up onto the foot and sitting cross-legged.

Heero sat, his face turned in profile to Duo, looking down at the floor at his feet. Without looking up, his hand reached under the jacket of his uniform and pulled out a gun from a shoulder holster hidden well by the cut of the uniform. Heero held it in his hands loosely, looking at it. Duo froze again in fear, his thoughts racing. Suddenly Heero laid it on the bed between them, barrel facing him.

"You probably want to kill me. Go ahead and do it if you want, or wait until I've said what I have to say. The only reason I haven't done it myself is to give you the chance. I at least owe that to you." Heero paused. "I would apologize, but I don't think that's possible, not any more. All I can do is tell you what little I know about why… about why everything happened."

Duo stared at the gun, almost non-comprehending. Vivid memories flashed in his mind, painful, gut wrenching memories: that was the gun, the favorite from the collection of over one hundred, the one that had scared his mind and then later his body. And Heero now offered it to him as a way to end the pain. Duo didn't move, didn't reach for the gun, didn't even blink. Heero seemed to sense that his death was not coming, not yet, and continued.

"It's all so muddled, so confused in my mind. I don't remember much of anything from those months we were together after the wars, especially not those two weeks; I was being torn to pieces inside by something I couldn't control. Something inside of me was coming apart, being pulled apart, and I was losing myself in the process. I wasn't myself, I wasn't in control any more, I was just watching from the inside of my own head.

"They, the doctors I mean, said it was the result of the modified Zero system, something no one could have expected as a side effect. They said it had copied a part of its self into my mind, like a computer virus, and that it was in the stages of growth. I was being taken over by it. That's what the other was, they said, and said they fixed me once I was in control of myself again.

"I don't know if that's true or not, but I don't think it's the whole truth of things. Those… urges had always been with me, but something made me lose control of myself, something made that part of me separate and become all of me. Zero took control of me, but I took control of it. We were the same thing, in a way. I think it unhinged all the walls I had made in my mind, all the training that was my life before the wars came, all the mental conditioning to feel nothing. And worse, it took over the only other feelings I had, the ones I had for you…"

Heero trailed off suddenly, and sat up strait. He moved swiftly, and shed his uniform jacket, revealing a white shirt underneath. With practiced swiftness, Heero unbuttoned the shirt and removed it as well, revealing his pale bronze torso. "I have something to show you," he said, and turned so his back was facing Duo. Duo's jaw dropped in horror. White linear scars, some reaching from shoulder to lower back, others only as long as a few inches covered the bronze skin of Heero's back. Some radiated from around the shoulders, while others slashed horizontally across the ribs and lower back.

"I did this to myself for you. For nearly four weeks after what happened in Vienna, I sat in a hotel room in Berlin, whipping myself trying to punish myself for what I had done to you there and in Neo New York. I barely ate, I dehydrated myself, and that's where the doctors that Quatre hired to find me finally caught up with me. I would have done it till I died had they not. I realize now that no amount of punishment I could inflict on myself would ever be penance for what I had done, else I would still be seeking penance that way. The only way I could find that was from you."

Heero turned back to looking at his feet, without bothering to put back on his shirt. Duo could not help but stare at the white slashes on the ribs, each one a story of a deep slash some that must have cut to the bone of the ribs, it looked like. He could not imagine Heero doing such a thing, yet he could see in his mind's eye how horrible it must have been.

"I've said what I can say, Duo. I've shown you what there is left of me. The uniform is a symbol, they made me an officer because of who I was, not from anything I did for the Home Guard. I can't sleep without nightmares of what I did unless I'm heavily medicated, and then I'm more dead than asleep. I still…." Heero stopped, and Duo saw Heero's left hand clench tightly around the right, nails digging into to the skin.

"I still love you Duo, and I'll submit myself to whatever you want from me to take out your pain and anger on me. Kill me if you want, do whatever you wish to me. I deserve all of it and more for what I did to you." Heero turned to face Duo, holding up both hands palms up, his eyes closed, small tears making visible tracks down his face. Heero reached for Duo's hand, pulling it towards the gun on the bed, making his fingers wrap themselves around the butt. Heero's hand guided his own hand up with the gun, pulling his arm up until the muzzle of the gun was pressed against his forehead. Tears rolled down his face from his closed eyes as he leaned into the muzzle, waiting for the pull of the trigger to come.

"No, I won't do that. I won't kill you, Heero Yui." Duo said, his voice sounding far firmer than he expected it to. "What good would it do me to do that now. I expected you to come here to kill me, Heero, I expected to die tonight for what had happened." He pulled the gun away, laying it down on the bed almost out of his reach and far out of Heero's.

"I don't know what to do now, Heero, but I know I can't do that." And Duo realized that tears were clouding his own eyes as he sat watching Heero, who looked at him with empty, confused blue eyes, waiting for something that wasn't going to come.


	9. Chapter 9

After everything was said, Trowa wrapped an arm around Duo comfortingly; his eyes sad as he looked at the shivering, tear stained wreck that was his friend.

"Duo," He said evenly, not a hint of anger betrayed in his voice, "I need to make some phone calls now. Why don't you go take a shower and relax, and when you're out I'll have dinner ready, ok?"

"Phone calls?" Duo asked hesitantly.

"Yes. I need to call Quatre. I'm sorry, Duo, but Quatre needs to know something happened so that he can arrange to have Heero found before he does any more harm or worse gets caught by civil authorities before we get to him." Trowa was leading him towards the bathroom as he spoke. "Better to keep this internal, amongst ourselves, than have it known globally."

Duo nodded. They were standing at the open door of the master bathroom of the flat. "Go take a nice long hot bath or shower or whatever you want. You need to relax, Duo, just relax. There are fresh towels, and a robe behind the door for when you are done. Take as long as you need, ok?"

"Ok, Trowa." Duo said weakly as he stepped into the cream tiled room. Trowa pulled the door closed behind him, leaving him alone in the silence of the room. Duo looked around, admiring the neatly kept bath, its polished cream tiles and simple brass fixtures. There was a freestanding tub in the far corner of the room, enameled white with lions paw feet, and a small shower stall to the side of it. A long bath would be wonderful, Duo thought, time to soak himself and relax in warm water with his hair down.

Carefully, Duo walked over to the tub and started fiddling with the nozzle and temperature settings, finding the right one before stopping up the tub to let it fill. The sound of running water filled the small room, loud and rushing, making white noise that drowned out everything else, even his own thoughts. Duo shed out of the clothes he had only put on a few hours ago, and carefully undid his hair from the many hair bands he wore in it. Someone, he assumed Trowa, had brushed it for him when he had been unconscious, a thought that made him smile to himself as he ran his fingers through it, removing any small knots. Then he set to work carefully removing the wrapped bandages from around his wrists and ankles, wincing as the adhesive pulled hair as he removed it.

He avoided looking at himself in the cabinet mirror once they were gone, afraid still of seeing the bruises and swellings that he knew must still be there; and, instead, walked over to the now almost filled tub. Carefully, one foot at a time, he stepped into it, aware of the stinging heat on the cuts on his legs and arms as he slid into the water, letting his hair float around him. Duo reached forward and turned off the water, then leaned back in the deep tub and closed his eyes.

In the silence, he could hear his own breathing clearly, resonating in the water, and over that, in the distance, he could hear Trowa's voice. It faded in and out as he assumed Trowa was walking from room to room as he talked. He must be talking to Quatre, Duo thought to himself, telling him about everything. And Quatre will do what's right, he always does. Duo closed his eyes, and listened.

"No, I don't have any idea where he could be. Have them check all the flight logs out of all NNY airports and check all the ground transportation, too. This is Heero we are talking about, he's as slippery as an eel, and trained to be even more difficult to catch than one. No, I don't think that…" Trowa's voice faded out again, and Duo sighed. So they were looking for Heero. He wondered what would happen when they found him, what would happen to him. Duo wanted nothing more to do with him, not after what had happened, but part of him resisted the thought that it had even been Heero at all, that somehow it had been something else, that something terrible had happed to Heero. And worse, deep down, he still loved him.

"… it's ok." A pause as Trowa came closer to the bathroom as he wandered through the house talking. "What do you mean, do I think it's safe? I can't think of any place safer than here for him. I'll bring him with me when I come to the chalet next week. Then you can see for yourself what's happened. We should have…" So Trowa would take him to see Quatre when he left next week. That made him feel better, let him know that he was taken care of at least for a while. He had no real place to go, he realized, and he certainly didn't know where else he could find such a safe place. Trowa seemed confident of his security system, and as paranoid as Trowa had become since the war's end, Duo was reassured by that confidence.

"…are you sure? I won't do it unless you're absolutely sure, I don't want you saying this and then regretting it later. That's the last thing any of us needs. All right, all right, of course I trust you, and I know you know better than I how to deal with such things. It's just that I…" Trowa sounded agitated, disturbed by something. Duo didn't know what, and couldn't puzzle it out in his current state of mind. He felt so relaxed in the tub, like he could just dissolve into the water completely.

Something inside his mind snapped like an old rubber band stretched too far, rotten and dry. Melting…he had wanted to melt into nothingness in the shower, melt away and run down the drain with all the filth being washed off his body. He could feel himself shaking all over, and he squeezed his eyes tighter, trying to focus himself and calm down. But the thoughts wouldn't stop flowing through his head. The entire event, in every horrible detail replayed itself in his mind, every touch and every word, and all the horror of waking up afterwards. He had… and again… and Heero had done it all to him so easily…

He could feel himself hyperventilating, feel the water closing in on him, suddenly too hot around his body. He opened his eyes, and wished immediately he hadn't. The water of the tub was pink stained, suddenly growing redder and redder, the color of blood. And then the water was blood, hot and warm around him. And he screamed, a high-pitched sound that he didn't think his throat could make, a shriek of terror.

Panicked, he scrambled out of the water, falling out of the tub with a painful thud on the cold hard tiles, falling over himself again as he tried to stand and only managed to fall again. And then he wasn't on the cold tiles of Trowa's bathroom floor, he was back in the bathroom in the condo, curled on the tile floor with the indignities still fresh, the filth still on his skin, covering his body. He had to get clean… It was still all over him, still covering him… Suddenly a hand touched his shoulder, and he screamed again, shrieking and gibbering in fear, trying to lash out at what could only be Heero, come back to kill him, to hurt him more.

"Duo!" The voice slashed through everything, loud and clear like a bell in the night. "Duo, stop it! Calm down." Hands were on his shoulders, shaking him. "Duo, its Trowa. Be still, calm down. You're safe. You're safe."

Duo's vision slowly cleared, and he realized he was curled up on the floor of Trowa's bathroom, his shins and elbows aching painfully from having fallen out of the tub. Slowly he sat up, and looked around. The room was exactly as he remembered it, and the water in the tub was clear and clean, not a hint of red in its warm depths. Tears were running down his face, and he couldn't stop them.

"Trowa, I'm sorry…" he sobbed. Trowa was kneeling beside him, arms around him to support him. "It was so horrible…I don't know what happened. Oh god, I think I'm going mad…" Panic welled up in his mind again, and he started twisting, trying to stand up. Trowa held him firmly in place.

"Hush, Duo, just calm down. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have left you alone in here." Trowa's arms tightened around him. Then suddenly, there was a towel in his hands, wiping water off of Duo, drying his skin and hair. Duo had no strength to resist it, ashamed as he was of being naked and helpless he could do nothing but submit to it. And then suddenly Trowa's arms were under him, lifting him off the floor, carrying him out of the bathroom.

"Trowa?" Duo tried to move in weak protest. "Trowa, where…"

"Hush, and be still, Duo. I'm taking you back to bed. You don't need to be on your own yet." Trowa's voice was sharp, concerned and mandating. Duo obeyed, and let himself be carried back into the bedroom. It was somehow comforting to know that Trowa ignored his nakedness, paid no attention to his helplessness, simply did what was needed. Quatre was lucky, Duo thought, to have someone like this standing in the wings behind him. Carefully, Trowa laid Duo on top of the covers of the bed, and went back to close the door to the room. Duo expected him to walk out, but instead, Trowa closed the door and came back to the bed and sat down beside Duo.

"Trowa, can I please have some clothes? Its… its cold in here." Duo asked hesitantly. In truth, he was beginning to feel uncomfortable being naked in front of Trowa.

"No, Duo." Trowa placed a hand on his shoulder, warm and strong feeling. "Roll over onto your stomach, Duo, I'm going to give you a massage."

Duo complied, but asked: "A massage? Why?"

He felt Trowa shift his full weight onto the bed, and come to rest beside him. Duo had his head turned so he couldn't see Trowa, but he could feel his knees and feet touching the side of his back. "I want to make sure you're ok, that everything is still in the right place. And it will help you relax and get to sleep again for at least a little while before dinner comes." Trowa's hands rested on Duo's back, fingers spread. "I ordered out, from a little place around the corner, since I didn't feel like cooking. I hope you don't mind."

"No…No I don't mind." Duo managed. Lying on his stomach made him feel better, but he still felt painfully exposed. He realized though there was nothing he could do about it, so simply closed his eyes and tried to forget that he was completely naked under Trowa's green-eyed gaze.

Trowa's fingers started work on the muscles in his mid back, digging deep into them, tracing their outlines carefully as his hands moved first up his back and then down. Trowa's hands were strong, the fingers deceptively delicate for all their strength; and they were warm, almost hot against Duo's bare back. Almost involuntarily Duo found himself moaning when Trowa hit a sore place and worked on it stiffness of the muscles beneath the skin. First the right shoulder, and then the left, Trowa massaged and manipulated the muscles, checking for stiffness or injury. Then Trowa worked down Duo's back again, fingers pressing along the cords of muscles on either side of his spine. Duo found himself relaxing more and more, sliding into a warm blissful state as Trowa's hands moved over his back.

Suddenly Trowa withdrew his hands for a few moments, and Duo felt Trowa's weight lift off the bed. "Trowa?" He asked without moving his head or even opening his eyes. He heard the sound of clothing rustling.

"Just getting more comfortable, Duo, so I can work on the rest of you." Trowa's weight shifted back onto the bed, settling down next to Duo's side again. Trowa's legs were bare now, and Duo was shocked to feel smooth, hairless skin touch his side. Before he could say a word, Trowa again started to massage him, starting now on his lower back, slowly creeping down across his tailbone and his hips.

Duo realized he must have tensed, because Trowa asked "Duo, are you ok? I'll stop and move on if you don't want me to massage here."

"No," Duo managed, "No, please, keep going. It feels wonderful."

Trowa continued, working slowly over his lower body, massaging the soft tissue of his hips and then across his ass, slowly working the two large muscles until they were completely relaxed. Then the fingers followed down his legs, working especially around the knees, and then gingerly around the abrasions on his ankles. Duo found himself again in that warm state of bliss. Nothing in the world mattered to him but how good the massage felt, how relaxed he was, and how wonderful Trowa's hands felt as they worked out the soreness and pain in his body.

"Duo?" Trowa's voice made a question out of his name.

"Hn?" Duo said, not opening his eyes.

"If you'll roll over, I'll continue." Without even hesitating Duo obliged, rolling over to lie on his back. He opened his eyes slightly and looked up at Trowa, who was leaning over him. Trowa was dressed in nothing but a light colored pair of form fitting boxers, his darkly tanned skin stark against their light cream color. Duo saw Trowa's green eyes move swiftly over him, but this time he felt no shame in being exposed. Trowa meant him no harm, he realized, Trowa simply wanted him to feel better. Trowa settled closer next to him and started massaging his neck and upper chest, and Duo closed his eyes again, enraptured in the relaxation.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you, Duo?" Trowa asked minutes later.

"Hu?" Duo opened his eyes, and then realized what Trowa was talking about. The beginnings of an erection were showing, much to Duo's embarrassment when he realized it.

Trowa, on the other hand, only smiled that strange, fleeting smile of his. "I'm glad you're enjoying it so much."

"It's nice." Duo mumbled, and closed his eyes again, feeling Trowa move his hands further down his torso. They traced the shapes of his ribs, checking each one, and then moved across his gut, gently tracing the proper places of his organs, and across his abdominal muscles, relaxing them completely. Trowa's hands then moved to the outsides of his hips, avoiding carefully the now fully hard curve of Duo's dick, instead working on the deep muscles of the outer thigh and joints of the hip. And then, only then, did the tips of Trowa's fingers move towards Duo's crotch, massaging gently every inch of flesh along their way.

Trowa hesitated, as though waiting for Duo to protest. But Duo did not, he could not really, because his entire body was in a state of bliss. The attention felt so wonderful, so right, he didn't dare stop it. It was so good to feel relaxed, to not fear what was coming next, something he had forgotten.

Trowa's fingertips touched the base of his dick, massaging around the base in small circles. Duo bit his lower lip and moaned softly under his breath. Trowa pushed further, running one finger down Duo's shaft, and again Duo did not protest. Every step was hesitant, careful, waiting for the limit to be reached. Duo rolled his head back, eyes closed, in blissful rapture at the gentile touches and caresses.

And then Duo felt the warm wetness of Trowa's tongue, the tip tracing lines down his length, then running along the edge of the head. Trowa had moved so that he was bent over Duo, lying almost on his legs. One of Duo's hands strayed down and touched Trowa's shoulder, seeking contact with the warm, tan skin.

"Do you want me to stop?" Trowa asked, looking up at Duo.

"No…" Duo said softly. "No, please don't stop. It feels so good, so warm…" Duo trailed off into a soft moan as Trowa took him into his mouth, his tongue running circles around his head. Trowa's mouth and hands completely covered his length, working slowly in rhythm, creating a constant friction that drove all other thoughts from Duo's mind.

Time seemed to stop, or slow, or accelerate, Duo wasn't sure what exactly, as he lost himself in the intense sensation. And then all too quickly, Duo could feel himself coming close to orgasm, feeling the come build up inside of his body in a painful yet pleasurable way. And suddenly Trowa slowed, easing the constant stimulation in favor of something more relaxed, yet still enough to keep him on that plateau. Ten minutes, twenty minutes, Duo lost track of time completely. The pressure was almost too much to bear…

"Trowa… please…" Duo gasped. "Please let me come…"

And Trowa responded with a return to the first rhythm, but with even deeper stroke and more pull along the skin with every movement of tongue and lips. Duo felt himself go beyond the point of return, felt his body give out and the warmth filled his body. Every part of him felt like a low voltage electrical current was being run through it, warm and tingly, and then suddenly it spiked as he came, sending his body almost into convulsions. Trowa stayed with him the entire time, tongue and jaw still working, milking him for every last drop of come, and swallowing it all. Even when he could feel himself going soft, Trowa stayed close, stroking him softly, expelling the last drops of semen that otherwise would have been reabsorbed into the body.

Duo closed his eyes, trying to calm the shivering that shook his whole body. Trowa curled himself next to Duo, wrapping an arm around him. They lay like that for an indeterminate amount of time, Duo slowly drifting off to sleep, his body warm from head to toe, filled with post orgasmic sedatives that lulled his brain to sleep. Duo distantly heard the buzzer when it sounded, and remembered hearing Trowa get up.

"I'll be back in a moment, Duo. Someone is at the door."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for this really horrific example of *magical healing sex*


	10. Chapter 10

Sleep was shattered by a sudden sound, lost from identification by the shrouds of dreams. Duo sat bolt upright on the bed, fear and panic filling him almost reflexively. Another sound, loud and unidentifiable, came from beyond the closed door, followed by the sound of two muffled voices, yelling. Against his own better judgment, Duo found his way to the door, barely remembering to pull on one of Trowa's robes before opening the door. What he saw when he opened it, in the living room beyond the small den, locked him in place with fear.

Trowa stood bare-chested, stance squared to support the long barrel of the evil looking matt black shotgun he held level at the figure opposite him: Heero Yui. Heero was only partially visible to Duo, but he could clearly see the semi-automatic clutched in one of his hands. He was clad in all black and a blue fire burned in his eyes that made Duo want to hide in the best place possible – under the bed. But fear held him where he was, listening.

"Where is he, Trowa?" Heero hissed. "Where is Duo? I know he is here, so don't try lying to me."

Trowa's green eyes smoldered like halogen flame, glaring at Heero, "Leave now, Heero. I don't want to kill you, but I will if you don't leave now." Heero didn't move that Duo could see, but Duo could see Trowa's frame tighten a fraction. Mentally Duo cursed, knowing that Heero could detect even smaller, subtle movements, and would always get off a shot first before Trowa's blast could hit him.

Suddenly the door Duo was leaning on creaked. He must have leaned on it or shifted his weight. The sound seemed like a thunderclap. Heero snapped around towards the sound, gun arm moving before eyes, both rounding on him. Heero's eyes seethed iridescent blue, an alien color that was almost alive with flecks of silver.

"There you are!" Heero's voice all but shrieked. And then suddenly, though Duo didn't know how possible, Heero's face filled with yet more violence. "Whore! Slut! Where do I find you but in the den of a kept boy, naked!" Heero's voice was a screaming hiss, like water on superheated mettle frothing away to steam.

It seemed that Heero was trying to say more, but it came as nothing more than an inarticulate hissing roar as he lunged around the door frame towards Duo, trying to cross the gap between them, gun outstretched. Trowa, however, was not one to miss the opportunity to disable is opponent, and brought the butt of the shotgun around club like, contacting with the back of Heero's head sharply, making a sickening thud of metal against flesh and bone. Heero stumbled from the blow, and fell full out, body sprawled on the carpet, but the gun still clenched in his hand. Duo's shock vanished in an instant, and he yelled as he pulled back behind the door, slamming it shut quickly, pressing his back against it as though to keep out the madness beyond.

In retrospect, that had been his worst error. The single bullet plowed head long into the thick hardwood of the door right at his shoulder level, sending a spray of splinters into his flesh through the robe as it exploded out of the wood and impacted into his flesh. The saving grace that kept his shoulder from shattering was the fact that the wood slowed the motion of the bullet substantially enough to let it come to rest lodged against his shoulder blade. But the mass of the muscle above was a ruin of tissue, splinters of wood, and burnt cloth from the robe.

The pain followed seconds later than the realization of what had happened, and then, thankfully, shock and unconsciousness overtook him faster than he could even think about.

* * *

Morning poked its way through the drawn curtains of the hotel room, inching a glowing finger across the room and prodding Duo into consciousness. How had he gotten to sleep, he wondered as he stirred from under the covers. The other side of the bed was unslept in, and empty; Heero was nowhere to be seen. Duo sat for a moment, elbows propped on his knees on the side of the bed, trying to piece together what had happened after the confrontation around the painful hangover fog in his brain. Heero hadn't said any more, and had simply withdrawn away from Duo for the rest of the evening. He remembered Heero taking a shower at some point in the night, and he was fairly sure that was when he had fallen asleep. But where was Heero now, he wondered?

He ate breakfast again in the same hotel restaurant. The meal was at a slow pace, relaxed, for he really had no place to go for the rest of the day. At least, he thought, the food really is as good as the guidebook said it would be. As he ate he let his thoughts wander, and found himself thinking about what had happened after Vienna. He had spent a week in a private hospital, and after that, on the protests of the doctors, had gone to Switzerland with Trowa. Quatre's lodge in the Alps had been beautiful, even in the early winter, with a light flaking of snow almost every day outside the window of the bedroom he had spent his recovery in.

Trowa and Quatre had been more than hospitable, and had seen to his every need until the doctors Quatre had employed had at last deemed him well and recovered. Even then though, he had remained for the rest of the winter, unsure of where else to go, or what to do with himself. Nothing more was said of Heero, though he often got the feeling that Quatre knew much more than he said. And Trowa had continued to be his confidant, guardian, and lover; an arrangement that had done more for Duo's healing mentally than any of the therapists and doctors Quatre had employed. Duo remembered that time fondly, especially that time spent with Trowa, though he had come to better understand the nature of the relationship as time had passed. It was with Quatre's permission, an act out of friendship on both parts, meant to help him find stable footing again. Duo realized that he needed to move on, and that Trowa was simply helping to clean out the scars in his mind left by what had happened.

Spring had come, and with it, Quatre's purchase of a major salvage operation. Duo had been named director of it, and had gone off to live at the company's base in the L3 colonies. And so he had come full circle, back in space where he had grown up, working now to make his old home better. And he had lived again.

So how on earth did I end up back here, he wondered as he drank the last of his soup. How did I end up back face to face with Heero Yui? Fate, you are a cruel thing.

"Maxwell-san!" A high-pitched voice called from across the restaurant. It was Hoshiko, looking even more flustered than she had the day before at the banquet. The poor girl, Duo thought, dealing with all of us must be making her mad as a hatter.

She reached his table and bowed sharply. "Maxwell-san. I'm so glad I caught up with you. I just tried to reach you in your room but you were out, obviously." Her smile was blindingly bright, but very weary looking. "I've got a message for you from Yui-san." She started flipping through her sheaf of papers and notes. "Ah here it is." She said as she pulled a pale white envelope from the pile and handed it to him. It has his name written in Heero's precise hand, his almost computer accurate kanji drawn in dark black ink.

"Thank you, Hoshiko-san." He said without looking up. She quickly stepped away, off to do battle with yet another complication of the conference.

Duo carefully opened the envelope, and unfolded its contents. The note was short, written in the same hand but with smaller, even more exacting characters. Duo sighed. Leave it to Heero to write it in Japanese, Duo thought; I really should get more into practice again. But the message was clear to Duo after three readings:

"Duo, if you do not accept my offer from last night, allow me then a second attempt at recompense. I will have lunch waiting for us in the room at 1200h, and if you would join me there I will make my offer to you in proper form." And then it was signed simply Heero.

What settled in Duo's stomach was not so much fear as guilt.


	11. Chapter 11

Duo shook his head and sighed as he rode the elevator back up to the suite, his hands wrapped in a near death grip around his braid, a nervous habit he had acquired somewhere along the road of his life. He kept glancing at his pocket watch, pulling out, noticing once again how close it was to noon, and then putting it back into the pocket from which it had come, a process he must have repeated twenty times during the elevator ride.

He didn't know what to expect when he stepped out of the elevator, climbed the spiral stair, and unlocked the door to the room. Whatever vague idea of expectation he had formed, it certainly wasn't what he saw, however. The lights were off in the room, and the shades drawn, leaving the room nearly as dark as it was at night, with only the blinding white glare of sunlight coming from a crack in the draperies to illuminate the room. Motes of dust danced in the brilliant light, moving slowly on unfelt currents of air. The small table in the room had been drastically changed, its bare, light wood surface covered with a dark colored table cloth. Set out on it were two plates, still with their room service covers, and a pair of silver candle sticks holding a pair of mellow white candles, unlit.

Duo realized his mouth was half open as the door closed heavily behind him. Was this what Heero had meant, he wondered. Duo shook his head. This was Heero; Duo reminded himself, the man who tried to kill you not once but twice. And yet, this had the ring of the familiar Heero, how he had been before the Eve Wars. It made Duo wince internally, remembering the few times Heero had done something similar for him when they had been together, and how special those evenings had been. This feels so wrong, Duo thought to himself, and yet, if I could just forget about the past, it would feel so wonderfully right.   
"Duo?" Called Heero's voice from somewhere out of sight within the room. "Duo, is that you?"

Nervously, Duo walked forward out of the narrow entrance hallway, and saw Heero sitting on the bed. Heero looked up at him, that strange, half-blank expression on his face that Duo had once almost gotten used to, and then stood slowly.

"I didn't really expect you to come…" Heero trailed off and glanced aside nervously. "After last night… I never expected to see you again. But I thought, foolishly, that I should try one more time… and maybe this time, I could get it right."

Duo was unused to seeing Heero this unsure of himself. The nervous fidgets and glances were alien to Heero's body language, yet were strangely comforting and reassuring to Duo.

"Duo, I…" Heero seemed to bite his lower lip as he paused. "Duo, last night went so badly. I've had such a hard time coming to grips with what happened, and putting myself back together after the doctors were done with me. But I …" Heero looked directly at Duo, and flinched visibly. "I don't have any right to talk about how hard things have been," he finished, looking down at the thick pile carpet.

Duo still said nothing, waiting for Heero to say whatever it was he was still beating around the bush of.  
Heero shook his head, and looked pained. "Duo, I want another chance… please. I know I don't deserve one, not after what happened. But I'm cured now, Duo, I am." Heero seemed to say it as a mantra, more to reassure himself than Duo. "I want to show you how much I've changed, Duo. Or more correctly," Heero took a step towards Duo and Duo resisted the urge to step back. "I want to show you that I'm the person you fell in love with once again."

Duo's heart lurched in his chest. Simultaneous emotions surged: anger on one hand, a swelling of outrage and fear, and on the other, joy and love filled his heart till he thought it would burst. Another chance, and if its true, I'll have him back, Duo thought, but what if it's not? And then: how can I even consider it, after everything, after all the pain and what he did to me?

"Heero," Duo began, unsure himself what he was going to say, "Heero, I don't know how to respond to that."

"Say yes, and give me another chance. I'll prove to you that I'm cured, that I'm not the monster I was then. Whatever it takes, Duo, I'll do it to prove it to you." Heero reached out, and took Duo's hand. Duo surprised himself, and did not pull away. "Duo, I mean it. I'll do anything you ask of me. Whatever proving myself means to you, however I can do it, I will, so long as it means you'll love me again."

And inwardly, Duo heard himself think: I never stopped loving you, Heero, I thought it was you who had stopped loving me.

* * *

They ate in silence, Heero never looking up from his plate, but barely eating, and Duo eating, but more out of politeness, never taking his eyes off Heero. His thoughts were in a jumble, rolling inside his head like dice, a loud rattle that seemed like it would never stop.

How can I even consider this, Duo thought to himself, after what happened, and all he put me through. But what if it's true, what if he really was just sick, and if the doctors' cured him? If that's true, then … Duo didn't know where to follow the line of thought. The anger at Heero still tinged the edges of his thoughts. He blamed Heero for all those nights he had woken up from a nightmare of that horror in their apartment, for all the flashbacks he had suffered in the months afterwards, for all the humiliation and shame he felt about his body now. But the anger was old anger, something that had smouldered in his mind all these years, and its fire had almost gone out. And now, looking across the table at the fragile, insecure shell of a man that was now Heero Yui, he felt its last embers flicker and start to grow cold.

As much as I didn't want to admit it, Duo thought to himself, I never did stop loving you. And to have you back in my life, as you use to be, would be such a gift. He thought the words as if saying them aloud. I knew that something was wrong with you, Heero, I knew you would never do such a thing to me of your own free will. I knew…

But was it just wishful thinking? Duo felt doubt lay a cold, skeletal hand on his heart. How could he ever trust Heero again, after that? Will I always sleep restlessly in the night, afraid I will wake up tied up again? Will I always be afraid of him, like some monster in my nightmares? Duo again looked at Heero, and noticed how frail he looked, how sunken his cheeks were, how thin his arms were, and how his body moved like it weighed a significant amount less than it was used to weighing. Heero seemed to at last notice Duo's gaze on him, and looked up. He shied away from Duo's eyes almost immediately. He may be the man that nearly killed me, Duo thought to himself, but he's no monster, at least, not any more.

"Is the meal all right, Duo?" Heero asked hesitantly. "You've barely touched it."

"I could say the same for you, Heero." Duo said, and regretted how sharp his tone sounded when Heero winced back.

"I… I haven't had much of an appetite for quite a while." Heero stammered as though apologizing.

"Heero," Duo reached across the table in a bold move, and laid his hand on Heero's. Heero breathed in with a start, his eyes going wide, glancing down at the hand as if it were a snake coiled to bite him. "I've thought about this a lot, Heero." Duo said, trying to keep his voice calm. "And I've made up my mind. I'm not sure if I'm doing the right thing or not, but I'm doing what I feel is best. It's going to be hard, hard for both of us, but," He paused, and saw that Heero was looking extremely anxious. "I want to give you that second chance."

Heero looked as if he was about to faint from relief. "Oh, Duo. Thank you, thank you so much. I know it will take allot of work for me to overcome what happened, to overcome the memory of it in your mind, and have you see me as the person you…" Heero looked down at Duo's hand, and Duo saw tears riming Heero's eyes. "It will take allot for you to see me as the person I was when you loved me, and not that monster I became, I know. But I'll do whatever I can to prove that I'm not that way any longer."

Suddenly Heero's eyes seemed to brighten, and his entire body language changed, a sudden confidence replacing his timidness. Heero got up from his chair, and walked over to Duo, and did the last thing Duo expected him to do. Heero got down on his knees, took both of Duo's hands in his, and kissed them, looking up at Duo.

"Duo, please. Let me show you just how much I've changed." Heero lay his face against the backs of Duo's hands. "I don't know of a better way to show you than this." And in a single fluid motion, Heero pulled off the black t-shirt he had been wearing, and lay Duo's hands on his bare shoulders.

Duo, startled, looked down, and realized just what it was Heero was offering. He barely hesitated before smiling, and saying yes.


	12. Chapter 12

Duo looked down at Heero, who lay with his head on Duo's knees, and ran his hands through the soft fringe of Heero's hair. "Heero, I'm not sure how far I can go with this." Duo said.

Heero sat up, resting the palms of his hands on the inside of Duo's thighs, just high enough above the knee to be sexual. "Duo, it's ok. I'll understand if you don't want this at all." He pulled back his hands, and folded them across his bent knees. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have pushed."

Duo shook his head. "Heero, that's not what I meant. I…" Duo paused, wondering if what he was about to say was a lie, or the truth. "I want this. I want this to be true. I just – I'm not sure how far I can go without it being too much too quickly."

Heero nodded, and lay his head back on Duo's knee, looking up at him. "I understand, Duo." Heero traced his fingers along the top of Duo's leg. "I understand. I don't want to do anything that will upset you. But I don't know a better way to show you that I've been cured."

Duo felt a shiver trace down his spine as he looked at Heero. He could almost forget the last three years of his life, almost forget the dull ache in his shoulder, and almost forget how many times he had woken screaming in the night with the sight of those blue eyes burned into his mind. Heero's expression showed a passing cloud of worry. Duo gently lay his hand on the side of Heero's neck.

"I do ask one thing, though, Heero." Duo said. "Can we at least go sit down on the bed?" Heero smiled, and unfolded himself from the kneeling position, and extended his hands towards Duo to help him up. Duo smiled, and accepted the helping hand from Heero. Once settled on the bed, Heero resumed his crouching kneel in front of Duo, looking up at Duo with painfully clear blue eyes.

Heero reached out, and took one of Duo's hands in his, and brought it to his face, pressing the back of it against his cheek, kissing the back of Duo's wrist before rotating the hand around and repeating the kiss on the soft skin on the underside of the wrist. Duo closed his eyes, enjoying the strange feeling of pleasure as Heero's teeth nipped at the skin of his wrist, and his tongue lightly moved across it, and along the base of his thumb. Heero nibbled at the ends of his fingers, lightly playing with them, then slowly, in a strangely teasing way, taking his index finger into his mouth, moving his tongue against it in gently undulating waves. Duo purred with pleasure.

Heero let go of Duo's finger almost reluctantly, laying his hands once again on Duo's legs, this time much higher up. Duo looked down at Heero, and nodded, and Heero's hands strayed further up, resting against the joints of his hips, thumbs and index fingers framing his crotch. Duo could feel himself starting to become aroused, aware of it more so because he was hanging at an uncomfortable angle. Heero's hand touched him through his pants, a gentile, stroking touch that made Duo groan from the back of his throat and lean back slightly, propping himself on his arms. Letting his eyes half close, Duo found himself relaxing, enjoying the touch of those familiar, long fingers. How could he have forgotten how good those hands felt on him, he wondered. Suddenly Duo was aware of a pause, a hesitation, and he opened his eyes to look down at Heero.

"Please," Duo said, his throat suddenly dry with nervousness, "Please don't stop."

Heero's hands moved again, fumbling slightly Duo's belt buckle, and then at last pulling it free, along with the waist band button behind it. Duo awkwardly slid out of his jeans with Heero's hesitant help, and suddenly felt very exposed. He chuckled nervously, and Heero returned a nervous smile, then lay his head on Duo's bare knees, letting Duo stroke his face.


End file.
